Chapter 9 - Vodka & Moscato
My anger at his behavior was temporarily forgotten as I looked at how he was dressed. He was wearing an expensive deep charcoal colored suit! The top few buttons of his white crisp shirt were undone, revealing the amazing chiseled features of his chest. The pants and jacket looked like they were tailored to specifically fit his figure. His normal mess of dark curls had been tamed into a smooth pulled-back style, making the beautiful features of his face even more startling. I blinked as I openly inspected his body, letting my eyes roam from head to toe. My attention finally came to rest back on his face. He smirked at my not-so-subtle gawking. I blushed and then frowned, when I remembered I was mad at him. I hissed, trying to keep the hurt from my tone, "Where have you been? Why have you been ignoring me?"
I must not have been particularly effective at hiding my pain, because his eyes tensed. He whispered softly, "I'm sorry, Cariad, but it really is better this way." He was trying to hold his emotions back from me, but I had seen him suffer enough times to clearly recognize pain in his eyes. So why was he trying to push me away? I cringed. Was he trying to tell me he wanted more space away from me, but he didn't want to hurt my feelings?
We crossed the threshold of the plane, so I wasn't able to ask him any more questions while we filed along the narrow isle. He held my arm and murmured, "I am seated in 3B if you need me."
I looked back at him in confusion and asked, "Aren't you sitting with us?"
He smirked, "In coach? Hardly not."
I left Myrnin behind to settle in his seat, and followed Shane, Michael and Eve, not paying any attention to the seat numbers. My mind spun with questions. What was better this way? I hadn't noticed that Shane had stopped and bumped into the back of him. He glanced back at my troubled expression and whispered, "Hey, are you okay?" I nodded as he lifted my bag into the overhead bin and followed him into our seats. Eve and Michael were seated across from us.
The flight's take-off was uneventful and I settled back. Shane had been thrilled to know Myrnin wouldn't be sitting with us. My thoughts were still troubled, as I stared blankly at the magazine in my lap, not actually seeing anything on the page.
A small gasp caught my attention and I looked quickly at Eve. She and I had decided we would both sit in the aisle seats so we could chat during the flight. My brows furrowed as I took in her unusually pale features; not at all easy to determine considering her choice of almost white face make-up. But I knew her well enough to see the subtle difference. I also noticed a bead of sweat trail down her hairline. Her eyes were closed with her head leaned back. I glanced past her to see Michael urgently whispering in her ear. He was holding one of the plane's air-sick bags. Oh no, now I understood.
She suddenly lurched forward and threw-up noisily into the bag. I cringed with sympathy and reached over to gently rub her arm with my fingers. A flight attendant hurried over to assist them with disposal. Michael guided her to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash-up. She finally settled back in her seat. Eve gave the stewardess a grateful look when she returned with Ginger ale and crackers to try to settle her belly.
I murmured, "Are you feeling better now?"
She let her head fall to the side and smiled a bit sheepishly at me. "Yeah. Stupid airplane," she fussed lightly.
Two more hours ticked slowly by. Both Eve and Shane were fast asleep. Michael was listening to his headphones while reading a book. My attention stayed focused on Myrnin. A hundred different times, I decided to check on him but stopped myself. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and lifted out of my seat.
I reached Myrnin and was surprised to find the seat next to him was open. He looked at me with a lazy grin and motioned for me to sit down. I slid next to him. The flight attendant saw me and said with an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry ma'am but you can't sit there."
Myrnin caught her eye and compelled her hypnotically, "She's with me...She can stay." The stewardess flashed us both a brilliant smile and went back to her business.
I teased him lightly, "It must be nice to always get what you want."
He seemed caught off guard by my statement, and hesitated with an intensity that made my heart beat faster. He finally eased into a grin and murmured, "It has its perks."
A million really important questions ran through my mind that I should ask him. Instead I chickened out on all of them and instead asked, "Do you fly often?" As soon as the words and overly-polite tone rolled off of my tongue, I was embarrassed. I didn't think I could sound any more like a disinterested fellow traveler, trying to make awkward small talk, than if I had tried to.
His grin widened at my apparent discomfort. I mentally slapped myself. I never acted like this around him. He was my best friend. Why couldn't I get my shit together? He leaned to whisper in my ear, "It's okay, I like to role-play," before resting back and replying to my earlier question with equal stranger-like demeanor. "Why yes, I have flown quite a bit over my lifetime. I only fly first class, of course. And I prefer window seats."
I giggled. His response reminded me of a beauty contestant, listing the few important facts, which utterly encapsulated their entire personality. I tilted my head and questioned, "Window seats, eh? Is that because you just love to bask in the sun?"
"No, it's actually the stars that I prefer," he replied, his tone shifting back to normal. "Look," he said with an excited smile, motioning out the window. I leaned my body over his, so I could see what he was pointing at. He whispered, in my ear, "The view from this height is magnificent, completely unhindered by the clouds and pollution." His breath tickled my neck as he pointed out the names of the constellations currently in view out the window. I was acutely aware that his arms had circled around me, gently guiding my attention.
When he finished naming them, I backed away slowly, trying to control the warm flush over my skin, caused by his closeness. He was staring at me intently. I finally managed to choke out a feeble excuse, "It's warm in here."
He nodded toward the clear drink next to him. "Would you like a drink?"
"I'm guessing that's not water," I replied with a raised brow.
"Certainly not. It's vodka."
"I can't drink that," I exclaimed.
He smirked, "Why not?"
"Well, it's not legal for one thing. I am only twenty."
He challenged, "Age is simply a number and don't tell me you haven't had a beer or two. Why not try something a little stronger?" He flashed a wicked grin and purred seductively, "I dare you."
His tone clearly implied his words had a double meaning. Heat rushed up my spine, tickling the back of neck. I knew he was playing with me and determined not to let him see just how affected I was. I raised my chin and held out my hand impatiently.
He grinned wider and placed his drink in my open palm. I brought it to my lips tentatively and took a sip. After which, I promptly wrinkled my nose and coughed as it burned a trail down my throat. "How can you drink that?!" I sputtered.
His chest was literally shaking trying to keep the laughter in. He caught the flight attendant's eye and spoke in fluid Welsh. She disappeared and promptly returned with a glass of wine. He took it and held it out to me. "Here, try this."
"What is it?" I asked suspiciously.
"Moscato. It's quite sweet," he assured me.
I took it and stared at him with a look that promised violence if this drink burned my throat as well. I took a small sip. He was right. It was sweet and actually pretty fantastic. I took a much larger drink, letting it cool the remaining burn from the vodka. "It's good," I grinned, enjoying myself.
He smiled in satisfaction at my obvious delight.
"You know, I'm surprised this seat isn't taken," I murmured as I glanced around the plane, realizing that every other seat was filled with now-sleeping passengers.
"It wasn't as much of a surprise to me, given that I purchased both of them," Myrnin murmured.
I looked at him in surprise and breathed, "Why would you do that?"
"Just for this moment," he admitted softly.
His answer warmed me from head to toe. Or maybe it was the wine. Either way, I settled contentedly against his chest.
I sipped my way through three glasses of wine as we talked for hours, just about personal things. I think we both purposefully avoided the hard topics like: the pain we left behind, why we were flying across the world, the danger at our destination, and why he kept pulling away from me.
I yawned. The wine and exhaustion pulled me closer and closer to sleep. He saw my eyelids flutter and spoke huskily, "Come here." He wrapped his arm around me as I curled deeper into his chest and let my eyes close.
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It was almost 4:00am when we arrived to the hotel in Conwy. The hotel was shocking and stunning in its luxury. Clearly, vampires spared no expense when they traveled. After checking in, we all settled into the large vacant atrium before heading off to our rooms, so that Myrnin could finally explain the plan. I slipped off my shoes and tucked my legs under me on the cool grey couch. It was surprisingly comfortable. The walls in the vast expanse of a room rose twenty feet in the air, meeting with a majestic curved light feature with blue-green panes, which bordered the entire room. In the center, the walls continued another eight feet, culminating in a gorgeous stained glass ceiling, reflecting the moonlight.
"Tonight, we are going to travel to a very remote location on the edge of Conwy. We are trying to find an ancient vampire by the name of Gwion. I am not certain he is even still alive. I haven't heard anything about him in centuries," Myrnin began.
"Why?" Eve asked. "How can he help Amelie?"
"As I stated, he is ancient. If he is alive and we can find him, he very well may have the science to counteract this poison. We are out of other options and out of time," Myrnin stated frankly.
"Where is the danger?" Michael asked tightly referring to Myrnin's earlier assessment.
Myrnin sighed and explained a bit reluctantly, "He is the oldest vampire I am aware of. I was his apprentice, so am very familiar with his cruel side."
I inhaled sharply and breathed, "He turned you."
Myrnin cut his eyes to me and nodded once. "He is extremely cunning and powerful, which makes for very unpredictable behavior."
Shane asked, "From your description, he doesn't exactly sound warm-and-fuzzy? Why would he bother to help us?"
"There is a great possibility that he won't, but as I said, we are out of other options," Myrnin spoke darkly. "When we get there, it is vital that you follow my lead. The consequences would be severe if you do anything that disrespects him." Myrnin seemed to focus on Shane for that last warning.
We finished discussing the plan and broke apart to go to our rooms. Shane and Michael were talking quietly to the side. Eve was reclined on one of the couches with her arm flung over her eyes to block out the light.
Myrnin's eyes were tight when he handed me the keycard to the room Shane and I would be sharing. He walked away without saying a word. I could tell he was on the edge. It took me a couple of steps to catch up to him. I grabbed his arm and said, "Wait."
He spun to face me. I took a step back at his expression. He was worse than I thought. His pupils were dilated like he was either angry or hungry. "Where are you going?" I whispered.
"Don't worry about me. Go...enjoy...yourself," he replied curtly. He seemed to have difficulty getting the words out from his gritted teeth.
"Are you thirsty...because we could..." I began. We hadn't brought any blood draw equipment. Michael and Myrnin's plan was to eat the traditional way. I felt it was too risky, but hoped that Michael could keep Myrnin from killing anyone. Seeing Myrnin's face now, I wasn't sure how quickly he might snap and preferred he take the blood from me now rather than wait. It had been too long since he last ate.
"Are you seriously suggesting I drink from your vein?!" Myrnin asked me in shock.
I stared at him, waiting for his response.
He spun so that his back was to me, his hands clenched into fists. "You are killing me," he muttered softly under his breath, before turning around to face me. "I do not think Mr. Collins would approve of that idea. If you will excuse me, I am going to get a drink, the alcoholic kind," he stressed.
"Myrnin..." I tried again.
"Stop!" his voice was harsh. I cringed. "I told you it was better this way. I meant it. Now, go before I change my mind and do something we both regret."
Tears pricked at my eyes at his words. I turned away from him without another word and walked away. I wanted to break down. To cry from my hurt feelings at his firm rebuff, but I couldn't let Shane see me like this. I didn't exactly have an explanation he would like for why I was upset. I plastered a fake smile on my face and put my arm on Shane's shoulder to get his attention. "Hey, I'm going to the room."
"Oh," he looked at me eagerly, "let's go."
I knew what he had on his mind. I cringed again. Myrnin and I had gotten along so well on the flight. Just like we used to. But now the tension was back and he was pushing me away again. I was too upset to be thinking about sex right now. I couldn't stand the thought of losing my best friend and I couldn't exactly explain that to Shane. I followed him silently.
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